Domestic Disputes
by darkbluesharpie
Summary: It's Dean's turn to do the dishes, and he's willing to offer anything to get out of it. PWP Supernatural au


**Rating****:** NC-17  
><strong>Pairings<strong>: Dean/Castiel  
><strong>Spoilers<strong>: None, it's au  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: If you twist it, it could be looked at as slightly non-con (nothing serious), but only cause both are desperate not get get stuck with dish duty. Neither are really fighting back. Rimming, oral sex, 69ing, slight manipulation, PWP  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 2,300  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Based on a tumblr post I made a long time ago. Domestic Destiel. It's Dean's turn to do the dishes, and he's willing to offer anything to get out of it.  
><strong>Notes<strong>: I know I haven't posted anything in forever, but I am going to try to write more. Motivation comes in waves for me- it's a problem. Thanks for any support and advice! Unbeta'd and I own nothing in this story.

* * *

><p>It was getting out of control.<p>

Castiel had made them a nice breakfast that morning, but they had to rush out before they were late for work, leaving the dishes to rest on the counter. It wasn't too much, and Dean put them in the sink to soak before making their dinner. An hour later, they were snuggled up against each other on the couch watching a movie, breakfast and dinner dishes now overflowing in the sink.

They usually took turns with the household chores, and tonight was Dean's turn to wash up. Usually he wouldn't mind- he did like a clean house, after all- but he was tired from work and cooking dinner that night, and he really didn't want to tackle what looked like a mountain of every dish they owned covered in grease and bubbles before bed. If he was going to get out of dish duty, he had to get creative.

Dean shifted slightly against Castiel's chest, turning to press his nose along his jawline, and landing a kiss on his neck. A warm hand on Dean's shoulder responded to his affectionate gesture by running up and down the larger man's arm. Castiel pressed a chaste kiss to Dean's forehead.

"Ready for bed?" he asked.

"Hmm," Dean sighed, shifting his hips lightly against Castiel. "Ready for something."

His tone was playful and suggestive, and Castiel responded kindly. Smirking, he pulled Dean towards him, as the other made to roll over, straddling the smaller man on the couch. Now leaning over Castiel, Dean had the upper hand. He started slow, giving him a deep kiss before rolling his hips down. He couldn't rush and go straight into it, because he knew how Castiel was; he liked to be worked up. Dean hummed a small sound into the kiss, pressing his hips down a little harder, and was rewarded when Castiel pushed back up.

Perfect.

See, Castiel had a hard time telling Dean 'No' when he asked for something on a normal day. But get him like this, and Dean practically owned him. He could ask for anything, and with the right manipulation- most commonly the promise of great sex- Castiel would move mountains to serve it to him. All he had to do now was "remember" that the dishes had to be done before they could call it a night and continue to the bedroom, then make it clear what he'd be willing to give as a reward for getting him out of clean-up duty. It was so easy, Dean almost thought it unfair. Almost.

Holding back a smirk when Castiel pulled back for breath, Dean stilled his hips with a disappointed sigh.

"Ah, crap," Dean whispered.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked, already sounding half-wrecked, but still concerned.

"It's nothing, I just-" He shifted in Castiel's lap to look towards the kitchen, subtly moving against his erection in the process, and making the other man's hand clench tighter on his hips. Too easy. With another sigh he turned back. "I've gotta go do the dishes before bed."

"Hmm," Castiel looked at the kitchen, eyebrows creased in thought. "Well, it _is_ your turn..."

Dean was almost taken aback when Castiel didn't immediately offer to claim the chore for himself, but it was alright- there were other cards he could play. Dean wasn't going to just give in after that. He _really_ didn't want to do the dishes, and he was already playing kinda dirty.

"How about this- whoever does the dishes gets something extra before bed?" Dean suggested, grinning smugly at Castiel, and already starting to lean down to press kisses down his neck.

"I can agree to those terms," Castiel replied. Dean had just a moment to smirk in victory against the other man's collarbone before he was abruptly shoved back on the couch, Castiel moving to crawl over him, and _wait a minute_- this isn't how this was supposed to go. Slightly disoriented from the sudden change in position and lack of control, Dean could only lay there as Castiel started his own trail of kisses down his neck. A firm hand settled itself between Dean's legs, forcing a small sound out of him as it began to work him over with firm strokes.

Um, no. Both hands on Castiel's shoulders, Dean pushed him back just hard enough so that he could sit up. With the smaller man now sitting, Dean moved his legs off the side of the couch, moving to kneel in front of him and elbowing a picture frame off of the nightstand in the process. It was less graceful, and far less subtle than before, but he was not doing to dishes, dammit. He quickly lifted Castiel's shirt off, and leaned forward. Past experiences taught him well that Castiel's nipples were overly sensitive, and he used this knowledge selfishly as he took one in his mouth, and lavished his tongue over it. Castiel groaned at the feel of it, hands moving to hold Dean's head in place, caught off guard by the sudden pleasure. Sure hands set to work, determinedly undoing the button and zip of Castiel's jeans. Just as he worked them open, however, Castiel pushed the coffee table out of the way with his foot before shoving Dean none-too-gently onto his back, and straddling his thighs on the floor.

Before Castiel can get a solid hold on Dean, the younger man rolled them over and pinned the others' shoulders down.

"Dammit, Cas," Dean grit out in frustration, not just because his plan was starting to backfire, but because since when did Castiel refuse a blowjob from _him_? It was enough to dent anyone's ego. "I made dinner, and I'm tired from work. I'm not doing the damn dishes, so just _stay still and take it_."

"No, Dean," Castiel bit back, knocking Dean to the side. He wrestling him onto his back, before looking down at him. "I worked today, too, _and_ I did them last night. It's _your_ turn."

Still keeping his grip on the struggling form of Dean, Castiel raised his shirt up and pulled it over his head, enough to keep his arms out of the way, but not remove it completely. Leaving Dean to struggle with untangling himself, the smaller man made quick work of his jeans, opening and them lowering them down just enough to free Dean's almost fully hard cock and take it into his mouth. With a startled sound, Dean finally removed his traitorous shirt and gripped Castiel's head with both hands, fingers threading in his hair. Castiel picked up the pace, working his tongue along the underside Dean's cock, and Dean couldn't find it in himself to push him away.

Sensing his advantage, Castiel looked up to see Dean's head thrown back, mouth open, chest heaving with his panting. With Dean finally submitting, and fully erect now, they were able to simply enjoy the moment, if just for that long. Castiel took him all the way down, smirking at the loud moan Dean made, before pulling off to catch his breath, and working Dean over with his fist. Dean might be losing the battle, but this war was far from over.

Castiel was forced back as Dean sat up; after kicking his pants all the way off, he immediately surged forward, pushing Castiel once more onto his back, but this time he straddled his chest, facing his legs. Castiel was still wearing jeans, a problem Dean sought to fix right away. He felt strong hands lift him by the hips until he was hovering over Castiel's face, before being lowered into his mouth.

"Mmm, _fuck_," Dean gasped, stilling as he felt Castiel's tongue circle the head of his dick, before swallowing him down again. When the initial shock of pleasure passed, he finally removed Castiel's pants, and leaned down. This time, it was Castiel's turn to moan; Dean gripped him at the base, before lowering his mouth over his length and sucking. Castiel pulled Dean out with a wet sound.

"If I make you cum first, you have to do the dishes," Castiel declared, before swallowing Dean back down.

"I can agree to those terms," Dean repeated back at him.

This wasn't even about dishes anymore. No, this was about _pride_, and it became a battle of wills. Who could bring the other to orgasm faster? Who knew their partner's weak spots better? Who could hold out the longest, with their lover using every trick they knew against them?

Dean had the advantage of being on top, and he used it to bob his head up and down quickly, stopping every now and then to run his tongue along his slit in the very way he knew drove his boyfriend crazy. He relished in the sharp gasps and low groans coming from the man under him, and felt a rush of smugness when Castiel shuddered, and he tasted him leaking into his mouth. When Castiel pulled off of him, he half expected a surrender. _Yes_, he thought._ Let's stop now, and spare you the embarrassment of-_

"_Ungh!_" Dean grunted when he felt a slick, textured muscle run along his opening before firmly working into him. Strong hands were pressing into his ass, holding him open for Castiel's clever and familiar tongue. It was Dean's turn to shudder, both palms pressed flat against the floor, moaning shamelessly as he felt the muscle switch back and forth between teasing kitten licks and deep, rough plunging. Control escaped him as he ground his hips in time with Castiel's tongue, riding his face and whimpering.

Damn him. He knows _exactly_ what this does to Dean, and how unfair was it for him to resort to this? Talk about aiming below the belt. Okay, _maybe_ Dean started all of this, but he was gonna be the one to finish it, damn it. Castiel wasn't the only one with a sure-thing trump card.

When he caught his breath, still unable to still his rocking hips, he leaned back down, once again taking Castiel's length all the way down until it nudged at the back of his throat. Swallowing down, his well-trained throat keeping him from gagging, his started to hum. Hard fingers dug painfully into his ass as Castiel pulled off with a sharp gasp. Immediately, as Dean knew he would from past experiences, Castiel started rocking back up into his mouth, unable to resist the pleasure the pulsating vibrations offered him. Dean responded with a slow rhythm, firmly holding his boyfriend's hips to keep the thrusts shallow. He smirked as Castiel grunted in frustration and tried to rock faster into his mouth.

_Getting desperate, are we?_ Dean thought. But it wasn't over yet. Castiel turned back to blowing Dean, as knowing and determined fingers pressed into his saliva-slicked entrance, still open from his tongue. It didn't take long to find it, being overly familiar with this part of Dean, and soon, the larger man was gasping and groaning above him as Castiel rubbed firmly against his prostate. Dean rocked harder into his mouth, still moaning against Castiel's erection and damn it, he was so _close_.

_Now or never_, Dean thought. He knew he was about 30 seconds away from kitchen duty, and losing "I Can Get You Off Faster" bragging rights. Castiel was relentless, keeping up with each of Dean's hard thrusts, his fingers fast and unforgiving in their assault on his prostate. Dean took his boyfriend all the way down, swallowing to make his throat muscles clench tightly around him, as he took his hand to cup Castiel's balls, and push them gently towards his body.

Castiel's loud moan was muffled by Dean's thrust, as he quickly push his fingers hard inside of him. The unyielding constant pressure finished Dean off, choking on his gasp as he felt Castiel filling his mouth with his orgasm.

They worked each other through it, both caught off guard by the suddenness of their climaxes. When their hips stilled, and everything was swallowed down, Dean rolled half-off of Castiel, resting his head on his upper leg. His knee rested on his sated boyfriend's shoulder as Castiel mindlessly ran his hand back and forth over Dean's thigh.

"Huh," Dean said, still catching his breath. "Um, call it a draw?"

"I think it's better than a win." Castiel agreed. They grinned stupidly at each other before Castiel gently pushed Dean off of him and stood up to grab his pants.

"Come on," he said, reaching to help Dean up. "You wash, and I'll load."


End file.
